


Soleil Royale

by Khazarkhum



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:32:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/109965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khazarkhum/pseuds/Khazarkhum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Empress Celene invites King Cailan to her flagship. What's changed in the last ten years?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soleil Royale

**Author's Note:**

> For the "Boy Meets Girl" challenge at DAO Challenges.

_Soleil Royale_

"The Ferelden is here." The guard did not even try to hide his disdain.

Empress Celene thanked him with a nod. She waited beneath a red and gold canopy, her carved throne suddenly feeling tight, constricting. Why was she concerned? She wrote to King Cailan frequently, had even met him in Denerim long ago. Fond memories of the little boy who begged her to bring more books, of the indulgent King Maric and the sullen Loghain Mac Tir came to her. That had been over ten years ago. She would see what he had become.

The reports seemed odd; "_…spends time fighting,keeping nobles in line…childless…not a bureaucrat…enthusiastic…_" She was not quite certain what that meant.

Rising from the throne, she smoothed out her skirt. Normally she would stay seated; but she was meeting an equal, not a subject. Different rules applied when dealing with a king, even if he ruled a barbaric land.

"King Cailan," snarled the herald, dispensing with honorifics.

If Cailan heard he gave no sign. He gently kissed her hand, never taking his eyes from hers.

"Welcome, Your Majesty." Her voice sounded off; what was this?

No. She knew full well what it was. No one in Orlais was this man's equal, not in look or carriage, let alone rank. If she had known that wide-eyed little boy would grow into this, she would have insisted that Maric marry him to her on the spot, Loghain Mac Tir be damned.

"Your ship is quite lovely," he said, the accent a touch off, delightfully so. "Would you extend the honor of showing her to me?"

"I would be delighted." _And I will show you anything of mine you wish,_ she thought.

Her men walked behind them, ready to protect her should the wild Ferelden attempt to seize her. Cailan ignored them, laughing off the jibes about wild men, the quality of the silk in his doublet, the way he spoke their language. Only once did he correct them, when they muttered about the dogs.

"Gentlemen, insult me all you will, but never insult my dog. The Maker gave us the most loyal of creatures in the Mabari. Loyalty is a trait rarely found in men. Who do you suppose is the more favored being?"

She didn't even try to stifle the laugh.

While they ate beneath the red canopy she planned how to see him again. Cailan was amenable to additional meetings, hinting that there were more weighty matters on his mind than the state of her flag ship. They would meet again, at an ancient hunting lodge in the Frostback Mountains. He promised to wear fur so he would be suitably barbaric for the occasion.

She watched as the little boat took him back to shore, his long hair blowing in the wind. Her chancellor grunted. "A Ferelden," he muttered.

"Yes," she agreed._ A most glorious Ferelden._


End file.
